


hidden goodness

by Codename_Mallory_Grace



Series: various stand-alone Ferdinand/Hubert fics [3]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternative Universe - Beauty and the Beast, Beauty and the Beast AU, Light Angst, M/M, alternative universe, fairytale AU, the goth vampire boyfriends have ruined my life in the best way, weird AUs are my niche apparently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-10-16 21:50:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20609894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codename_Mallory_Grace/pseuds/Codename_Mallory_Grace
Summary: An old tale is about to begin again. A lord of light is cursed to live in the shadows alone. Until the lord of shadows comes to his castle unwittingly. Over time, these two outcast will find solace within each other, and maybe desire more.[Hubert/Ferdinand as Beauty and the Beast]





	1. tale one

There once lived a lone, beautiful lord in a grand castle. Though he had servants, he never kept company. For the lord was cursed.

First, the lord’s mother, upon his birth, shunned him for his unnaturally bright hair. Next, the first diplomatic mission his father brought him along with resulted in his father disposed and the family lost everything. His father, under house arrest, cursed the lord for being the downfall of the family. His father died soon after.

The final curse was placed on the lord by a handsome water nymph. During a rare trip outside of his castle’s grounds, the lord heard a melodious voice coming from the fountain. But when the singer, a water nymph, spotted him, she cursed him.

She cursed to take the form of a beast.

A beast with bright fur. A reminder of how his mother cursed him. A beast with his family crest branded into his chest. To remember how far his family has fallen.

Long after he fled to isolation, the nymph sang to no one, “Oh, child of Aegir. Let not the curse be punishment. If humans judged to quickly, then let this curse reveal their true natures.”

As the lord did not hear the nymph’s last song, he spent years wondering why his life was cursed.

Soon after, the lord dismissed all servants but a loyal few. To not distress their lord any further, the loyal few took on inhuman appearances of their own.

For many, many years, only a beast, teacup, pincushion, quill, and whetstone inhabited the once noblest-of-noble castles. No one entered or left the castle. Until a gaunt young man appeared at their doors to repent for his father’s transgression.

In the capital of a great empire, lived the son of a vile minister. The son, Hubert, was a willowy-figured man with very little social graces. The only person who could seemingly get him to change expression was the heir to the imperial throne. The two were nigh inseparable.

Despite having only one desire for his life, standing in the young heir’s shadow, it was not fated to be. All because of his father’s greed.

After a particularly bad meeting, his father angered some lord of an abandon castle by the sea. As punishment, the lord demanded a prisoner, but his father being accustomed to avoiding consequences for his actions, offered Hubert in his place. In the dead of night, Hubert was taken away from his family home, but most importantly from his lady, and trapped inside a desolated castle.

And so, Hubert lived out his life isolated, but not alone. Oh no, it would have been too nice for that to happen. Along with a towering lord with too bright and too much hair, or so Hubert assumed based on fleeting glances, there lived a variety of… amenities with too many opinions.

“Honestly!” huffed the purple tea-cup every night at dinner. “As the son of a minister, you would think you would have better manners than this.

“I’m s-sorry! I didn’t mean to disturb you!” yelled the yellow and maroon pincushion every time Hubert saw… it? Her?

“You going to be here long? Just keep it quiet,” yawned the dark green quill. ”And don’t even think about writing with me,” added the quill before falling asleep.

“You bored? Wanna spar with me? I bet I’m stronger than you!” shouted the blue whetstone as Hubert tried to walk away.

Nevertheless, Hubert had little to complain about the life here.

The lord of the castle gave him the nicest quarters, provided a vast feast for every meal, and let him roam everywhere but the eastern wing. It was not the life he desired, but it was a better life than he deserved. He grew up in his father’s shadows and was groomed to live the emperor’s shadow. This lavish life where four… servants(?) waited upon him was wrong. He should have been waiting upon the emperor-to-be.

His only proper complaint of the castle, however, was the lord never showed his face. The few moments Hubert talked to the other man was always around the corner in the hall, through the door or wall, or in the dead of night when the lord used the darkness as a blindfold on Hubert.

The first words Hubert traded with the lord were:

“How do you like the castle?” the voice came from the other end of the hallway.

After realizing it was not one of servants, he assumed it was the castle’s lord and said, “It's tolerable.”

That was the end of their conversation.

The next time was after dinner one night.

“You don't like tea?” asked the lord through the door.

Hubert didn’t asked how the lord knew that, but he wished he did. All he said, “I find it weak and often poorly made. Coffee is my preferred drink.”

“Well, I can… I can add coffee to your meals,” said the lord before footsteps walked away.

Next was when Hubert’s mind was too busy to sleep, he wandered outside for the first time since he arrived. Escape attempts through the gates or walls were futile as Hubert sensed the magic surrounding the castle the moment he arrived.

He never heard anything, but somehow the lord was on the other side of the hedge maze he passed, so through the bushes, his voice asked, “What are you doing up so late?”

“That teacup of your’s insists I see the garden under the moonlight,” answered he frankly, too numbed by lack of stimulations in his daily routine.

“He always did have excellent taste.”

“And you?”

“Night is the only time I feel… like myself.”

If anything else was said, Hubert did not hear it as the wind carried away their voices to the sky.

Still, why did the lord hide so? If it was anyone else, Hubert would, correctly, assume it was something about his own person that was objectionable. Many of lords and ladies have complained or gossiped as much to his lady, who later told him. But this lord specifically asked for him — any prisoner, in actuality. Regardless, he could not understand why he was a kept prisoner, let alone treated well, if the lord did not get pleasure from seeing him go mad, wallow in misery, or making futile attempts at escaping.

As the days went on, Hubert’s detestation of not knowing his surrounding bubbled, so Hubert took to researching the castle and its lord as much as the available resources would let him.

If the paintings in the castle were any indication, the lord was a striking young man with pleasing features. Hubert believed the bright orange hair reflected an exaggeration or flaw in the painter’s skills, but no. The few strands of long, bright, orange hair existed on the castle floor before any of the servants cleaned the area.

Books, codices, and records all contained interesting information about the castle, but nothing about the lords. Either this lord was never introduced to society, much like Hubert — but most likely for different reasons — or was too young to have accomplished anything public.

The furniture, architecture, finances, and just about everything else observable about the place discounted the possibilities of the lord being a foreign spy, an imperial spy, or an illegitimate heir.

Hubert even took to interviewing the servants when possible.

“Were you always in service of the family?” asked Hubert to the whetstone after the servant got him to show off his offensive spells.

“Well, not exactly… My family had enough heirs, so when Lin left his family, I just tagged along with him, you know? For all he wanted to travel, he can’t do much, so I’ve got to look out for him. But that didn’t really work out since we ended up in debt to Fer– the lord’s father and got stuck as servants for the family.”

“You did not object to it?”

“Eh, the lord’s father was a bastard, but the lord is alright. Just a shame what happened him to him.”

This was the first concrete reference that something unnatural or unusual occurred to the lord, so, naturally, Hubert asked: “What happened to him?”

“Oh that!” shouted the whetstone loudly and quick enough that if he had a face, Hubert was sure it would be wide eyes and a gaping mouth looking for the safest answer. “Um, nothing really. It’s nothing bad, big, or something you should be concerned with really. Oh! Look at the time, Lin should really be getting up to start dinner. Got to go!” said the whetstone without pause before he rolled down the hall.

In the end, sufficed to say, the servants were unhelpful (Caspar the whetstone and Bernie the pincushion), unfocused (Lin the quill), or too self-centered to pay attention to their surroundings (Lorenz the teacup).

So just who was this lord?

One night, after dinner and interrogating Lorenz for the third time, Hubert took to practicing chess in the library when a voice sounded from the hallway.

“I’ve heard you’ve been asking about me?” asked the lord's voice.

“Is that not allowed?” replied Hubert without looking up from the chess board. If the lord was not going to show his face, then at least Hubert did not have to maintain eye contact.

“No… It’s just unexpected,” said the lord, in what Hubert took as, in an honest tone.

“Well, I like to know who I am living with. I did not have much of say about my moving in after all,” said Hubert. He moved the rook forward to trap the knight.

“Understandable,” said the lord, but his tone suggested he wanted to add more. After Hubert moves three more pieces, the voice sounded again,“But why wait so long after you’ve first arrived?”

“I did not know where to start. For as much as your servants love to talk, they do not say much.”

“Well, when one only has each other to talk to for years, one might forget how to speak. Everything and anything that needed to be said has been said.”

“I suppose. But what about you?”

“Me?”

“Why wait until now to talk to me? I am completely at your whim. You could have put me in a dungeon, sold me, put me to work. Anything,” said Hubert, who tried to keep his voice steady. In all his experience with kidnapped people, prisoners, hostages, and other involuntary ways of living, no one was ever treated this kindly. He could never settled for it could end at any moment. That is not a question of “if,” but “when.”

“Dunge— what purpose would any of that serve?” said the lord hastily.

“Do lords not like enjoy exerting their power over whoever? To see those lesser than suffer?”

“I'm not like that!” yelled the lord.

Afterwards, panting came from the other side of the door. If the lord had proved more violent prone before this moment, Hubert would have assumed the lord was holding in his anger. But the lord’s temperament was still a mystery.

“So you say,” said Hubert as his first test.

The panting turns to deep, long breaths, then the lord asked, “Are you always this untrusting?”

So the lord can calm down after a slight. “Only to mysterious lords who refuse to show themselves or give any information,” said Hubert aloud. His second test.

“I suppose that is fair….” The lord must have shifted his weight for the floor to creak after his sentence. “If you wish to call… My name…” the lord almost did not finished the sentence, but as Hubert got a king out of check, the voice continued,“is Ferdinand.”

Hubert waited until footsteps began carrying the lord away from the door and walls and spoke, “And my name is Hubert.”

As if their names broke a curse on them, in the following days, the two began an odd companionship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my weird AU for FE: Three Houses. I've been waiting to write this idea for a while. And I'm curious to what people will think and hope will enjoy!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. tale two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the unmasking begins.

Every night Hubert, after dinner, proceeded to the same study and set up a chess board. After a few moves, Ferdinand’s footsteps approached, but never entered, and they chatted through the closed door from moon-rise to moon-set. At some point, Ferdinand realized what Hubert did during this time, and the two started games of verbal chess though the walls that stretched on for days.

The servants also seemed less reluctant to answer his questions. They did not expand upon their hasty answers, but they did not feel the need to run away. Instead, they just diverted Hubert’s attention to something else. He allowed it; they would break. Until that time, however, Hubert learned to embroider a handkerchief with Bernie, sharpened weapons with Caspar, tended the rose plants with Lorenz, and fished with Lin. Hubert did not ask how a quill eats.

It was another night filled with chess that Hubert continued his tests of Ferdinand.

“Should I ever call you ‘Lord Ferdinand?’” asked he. He was playing white and down a knight and four pawns. While Ferdinand lost his rook and three pawns.

“Just Ferdinand is fine. C5 bishop to E7. Truly… I am no… no longer of any importance.”

Hubert moves the black pawn, then says, “Your castle would suggest otherwise. A4 to A5.”

“Yes… It’s a relic, you could say, that is slowly dying.”

“Clearly.”

“And you? You’re father was a lord, himself, was he not?”

The chess board was left at a stalemate as Hubert tried to stare a hole in the wall. What was the purpose of that question? Did he wish to mock Hubert for failing his family’s duty more so than his father? A test of his own?

With a flat voice, Hubert said, “Yes, but he forgot what it meant to hold his title. I intended to hold my family’s oath.”

Nothing came from the wall that he assumed Ferdinand left while he spoke. Until a low, “I’m sorry your father forced you here,” came through.

“As much as I resent it, what is done is done,” said Hubert, who wished more than ever to see this lord. Rueful or not, he still did not have an understanding of who this lord was. His voice might sound pretty and like a guilty party, but that could just be an act. He needed to see the lord in action. How did he carry himself during these moments? Did he have tells? What did he look like?

Ferdinand continued on without Hubert noticing until the other man said, “My position is slightly different from your’s, but my father also forgot his duty and I paid the price for it.”

“Do you resent him?”

“Yes and no. While it was wrong for him to stray so far from his duties, I now know what I need to strive for: the opposite of him.”

“And, pray, what does that entail?”

“Being a good lord to the people. Helping them. Listening to them.”

“Have you achieved it?”

“I don’t think so, but I will not stop trying.”

“Sounds tiresome.”

“You are the same, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps, but my family has different… duties than your’s.” Such a simplification of what was required of his family that it is almost a lie. “I doubt I would have become a nice lord to the people.”

“But good and nice are not one and same. You might not be nice, but you can still do good for the people.”

“I am not nice, and I doubt anyone would call me good.”

“But you are good!”

“You say that as if you know me.”

“Well… We might’ve just begun talking and playing chess, but the others have told me what you’ve done since arriving.”

“And what do they like to gossip about?”

“Bernie told me how you carried her back to her room the other day.”

“She was paralyzed on top of the grandfather clock. And understanding how clumsy she is, it was only out of precaution that I brought her back.”

“Lorenz tells me you give suggestions for tea at every breakfast.”

“It is the only common topic we share.”

“You don’t like tea.”

“I know enough.” A warm vision of drinking his tea with his lady, who loved tea and the only reason he endured the flavored-water, crossed his mind before anger at his father for ripping him away from her washed it away.

“Well Caspar —”

Hubert told him about the legendary fighters of the empire, but he did not want to hear this… appreciation for his actions. So he cut him off, “Yes, your servants gossip about me. What does that have to do with me being good?”

“No matter why you do those things — precaution, efficiency, convenience — you still did those things to help and made them happy. In turn, the castle is happiest it has been in years.”

“I doubt my presence is truly the root of their happiness.”

“You might be scary looking, or so they tell me, but why should that discount your good deeds?”

“Let us drop this conversation. We will be here all night debating this and we still have a game to finish.”

“Very well. It’s my turn, no?”

Hubert won that game within the next three turns. He was almost tempted to gloat at the lord just to prove him wrong. He was not nice nor good. But the gentle, “A well earned victory. Congratulation,” stopped his plans. Hubert’s last words were to bid the lord farewell for the day.

As Hubert’s third moon at the castle came and passed, he became more and more curious why the lord still insisted on talking through some barriers. For all Hubert has learned of the man, Ferdinand was entirely too personable to not want to talk face-to-face. Hubert recalled the handsome young man in the portraits and wondered if he was ashamed of his looks or something happened to tarnish it.

As annoyed that he still had yet to see the lord in person as Hubert was, something else prickled him in the back of his mind. His servants interacted with Ferdinand daily, if the stories they tell were true, and he played chess with Hubert every night for over a month. So why do they see him, while Hubert was resigned to only talk to a wall, or a shadow if he was lucky?

Perhaps this irritation came from the equally annoying fact that Hubert began to trust Ferdinand. Not much, but certainly more than any other person that was not his lady. He knew now that Ferdinand’s outburst at being accused of torturing Hubert was genuine. While he judged the lord to be a man of action, with armors and lances and axes and bows present within the castle, those weapons would not be used on anyone except for enemies in combat. Of which Ferdinand had judged Hubert worthy of mercy. He trusted Ferdinand to not hurt him. And to not have that trust returned in some capacity… stung; though he would never admit it.

So if he ever asked the servants about Ferdinand’s preferences, hobbies, or lifestyle, it was a coincidence.

“An interest in milord?” preened Lorenz; Hubert was sure, even if the teacup could not emote properly. “A fine gentleman he. Dare I say, the noblest of any noble alive. Therefore it is only natural for him to take to noble pursuits. Horseback riding was always his pride.”

Hubert walked away before the teacup talked him out of his morning coffee.

“He likes… rose… I think. You should get him some,” said Lin slowly before he falls asleep on his usual pillow in the library.

Hubert already knew that from the constant fresh roses around the castle in the rooms Ferdinand frequent.

“He drinks a lot of tea, obviously,” said Caspar. “Don’t worry about getting him a gift. Shopping for him is so predictable.”

And Caspar was equally predictably unhelpful.

“He… he spends quite… he likes to read old… court… minutesintheeasterntower!” stammered Bernie while he finished up her latest project.

It was the most unique and helpful answer, but one that Hubert would never be able to use. Though he was forbidden to enter the eastern wing, the height of the eastern wing prevented him more than any arbitrary rule.

But for all his careful plans and pointed questions, it was by pure chance Hubert got his wish.

One night with an argument between Lorenz and Lin, something about etiquette in the library, building to echo along the castle walls, Hubert wandered outside to the gardens for quiet. The moon only just began waning, so it still proved enough light to see the path. In fact, part of the castle shone as brightly as midday in this moonlight.

And the moonlight guided his vision to a particular veranda at the base of the eastern wing. Sitting there was… another being. Human, if Hubert was generous, and a monster, if cruel. Though… the figure fitted inside a regular-sized chair, his height was impressively tall, so the figure hunched over the table just to lean his head on his propped-up hands. His head was tilted up to the side, so Hubert went unnoticed. This pose was almost wistful and serene that he did not take notice of the odd mark on the chest until the figure noticed him.

“It’s you!” said… Ferdinand, Hubert guessed. It was the same voice as his chess partner.

His mind was still in the midst of connecting Ferdinand with this… figure, Hubert slowly said,“Yes.”

“What are you doing here?” said Ferdinand hastily as he sat up straighter; no longer hunched over the tables. It gave Hubert a small glimpse of the mark. It looked like a scale or bird or something in between. The mark also looked very familiar to Hubert, but his mind was too distracted to think where it was from.

“My apologies.” bowed Hubert. The action gave Ferdinand a small respite from his golden eyes, but it was short lived. As Hubert continued, he scrutinized every detail of Ferdinand, “I was in search of a quiet place.”

Avoiding Hubert’s eyes, Ferdinand said with a small laugh, “Lin and Lorenz are at it again?”

“You can hear them?”

“Lorenz’s voice does tend to carry though these halls.”

A shout, sounding very teacup-like, vibrated the air until it was cut off by a crash.

“So it would seem,” said Hubert with a maintained gaze on Ferdinand.

“Forgive me for asking,” Ferdinand’s voice trailed off, until he found his voice again. “Could… could you turn your back?”

As his latest test, Hubert challenged, “Does talking face-to-face really frighten you so?”

“Yes! And it should you,” said Ferdinand with quick glances at Hubert. It was the first time their eyes met tonight. Even if was brief. “Are you not scared?” asked he in a small voice.

Hubert, if was even possible, stared harder at the person in front of him. While his form was beastly, he didn't feel unsafe in Ferdinand's presences. Maybe it was because he grew up surrounded disingenuous people, so as he understood Ferdinand as eager and genuine, his appearance didn't look monstrous. Not truly. But how to word it?

He simply said, “Of you? No. Unsettled? For now, but I assure you, I will get used to.”

That was the truth; this person in front of him was by far the least disturbing one he had ever met.

“You shouldn’t have to get used to see this… beastly form,”said Ferdinand in the saddest tone Hubert has yet heard.

Not sure how to comfort, Hubert said, “So you have a different face and some more hair. It does not affect how I see you. And truth be told, I was more weary of your servants at first than of you right now.”

“What? Why?” For the first time, Ferdinand looked directly into his eyes. His eyes are wide and bright and it is easy for Hubert to see the connection between him and the painting of the young handsome man.

“At least I can see that you are human, even it is only to a degree. A quill that can write with another quill or a whetstone that wears gauntlets is much harder to adjust to.”

“Thank you?” said Ferdinand with a scratch at the back of his head.

“Think nothing of it.” Hopefully — an odd feeling for Hubert — the last barriers between them were cleared. So he honored Ferdinand’s request and turned his back to the lord to look up at the moon.

No additional words were traded between them, but both refused to leave this… peaceful moment. The moonlight bathed them until a renowned trust overcame the two men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really wanted to get this chapter out before I get swamped this weekend. I hope people continue to enjoy this fairytale! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. tale three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why are we hosting a ball? It's just the two of them?"
> 
> "Hush, Lin. Because it's just the two of them, it's even more romantic. And a perfect time for Ferdinand to sweep him off his feet."
> 
> "I thought you didn't like him, Lorenz."
> 
> "My opinions aside, it's hard to dislike the reason why Ferdinand is happy."
> 
> "Speak of the devil, they're coming!"

Even though Hubert knew what Ferdinand truly looked like, most days the lord still refused to talk in person. It was only under the moonlight that Hubert ever saw the so-called beast of the castle. Although his body was undoubtedly a twisted version of a person, the eyes were very much human.

Hubert found himself watching Ferdinand's eyes during those fleeting moments. Whenever Ferdinand was excited — about the birth of a new foal — his eyes stayed on Hubert's face while his arms gestured and recreated his actions during his retelling. Whenever he recounted his day with the others, his eyes almost sparkled like gems as his laugh filled the room with a less tight smile from Hubert. Or when he was concentrating during their chess games, his eyes were ever-so-slightly drawn down and his hand ran through his long fur, a way to keep it out of his tilted-down face, until he decided a move.

But, as they began playing chess together face-to-face, Hubert's winning streak ended and Ferdinand's began. As Hubert swiftly learned, Ferdinand's face was the perfect distraction. Instead of formulating tactics, his mind was occupied with tactics to run his own hands through Ferdinand's fur. It was maddening how it shone under moonlight and candlelight. Maddening how it smooth it fell off of his clawed-hands. Maddening how distracted Hubert had become by a simple action.

After Ferdinand's ninth win, he finally questioned Hubert about his staring. "Does my... fur bother you?"

"Not particularly. However, I can't imagine it can be easy to have such long... Fur."

"It's not easy, but brushing it every day is routine at this point."

"What about braiding it?"

"There's quite a bit for me to do it by myself. And the others can't really help."

"Would allow me to braid it?”

“What?”

“I have experience with long hair that can be unruly.”

“Truly? You would do that for me? Would now be good?”

“We have no other responsibilities.”

“Right. I’ll be back.”

As with everything Ferdinand did in Hubert’s presence, he jumped out of the chair too fast and knocked over his own king to join Hubert's fallen one. But that did not hinder him in the slightest. With a wave from Hubert — he intended to clear the table anyways — the eager man left the library to retrieve what he required.

While was gone, Hubert placed the chess pieces back into the proper storage. Ferdinand did not seem to care about the order of which the pieces were stored in, but Hubert liked to place them in their starting position order. The task was routine and his mind wandered back to his lady, who he missed and wanted to be by once again. Now that he had offer to tend to Ferdinand's hair, he also became wistful for the mornings when his lady would allow him, and no one else, to take of her hair for the day. He might not have liked it when he was younger, but many times it proved to the one moment of respite each got for the day. It was also a nice opportunity to talk as freely as they could in the castle. He even just began learning braids to wrap around his lady’s crown. If only his father hadn't interfered.

Perhaps, once he established enough trust with Ferdinand, he would ask about the magic protecting the castle, the literal barrier preventing him from returning.

With a new goal in mind — he still hasn't forgotten about researching just who this lord was — he mentally attempted to configure a braid design for Ferdinand. There was undoubtedly more hair, fur, to twist.

Thicker braids used more hair than the slim ones he twisted for his lady. Perhaps, a Brigid’s style would suit him. It would certainly suit the outlandish outfits Bernie tailored for him over the years.

As if Hubert's thought summoned the man, Ferdinand returned with a small chest in his hands. It was dark wood with a golden carving of the same crest buried in Ferdinand's fur. Not that it mattered for much longer, as Ferdinand threw the chest open and haphazardly pulled every item within along with a grand speech about each item's associated memory.

Once a brush big enough for fur and multiple ribbons came out, Hubert paused his "Hmmm"s and "Quite so"s and began his work.

"Do please use this one," said Ferdinand about a light purple ribbon. "It was gift a long time ago. I never got a chance to use it before... my transformation."

"As you wish," said Hubert as Ferdinand’s orange fur turned into brown, silky hair before his very eyes.

He pushed the comparison — it was not a fair or logical — away and untangled a particular tight knot at the base of Ferdinand's neck. At the very least, Ferdinand was not lying when mentioned no one really took care of his fur. The ends were fine, as they were easy to reach and do by one's self. The rest of the head and body, however, were worst than if Ferdinand just lived on the streets for years.

“How did you learn how to do this?” asked Ferdinand when he placed everything Hubert was not using back into the chest.

“…It was one of my duties for my lady,” said Hubert. But understanding Ferdinand’s personality, he added, “That is all I will say of it.”

“Then all I will say of it is she’s very lucky to have you in her life.”

Momentarily, he felt an urge to correct him. To throw in his face that he was the reason why Hubert was no longer in her life. That as idyllic as this life was, it was not what Hubert ever wanted.

But Hubert was a man of his words and by the time the fireplace burned out and restarted (twice), he was done and Ferdinand's fur, at least around his head and face, was in an elaborate design.

Ferdinand held up a mirror, from the chest, and prodded at the thick braids. With most of his fur pulled back, his face was fully visible. His golden eyes, already plenty expressive, seemed to shine bright with every detail of his fur he saw. His smile, already kind, revealed even more of his thoughts. But while there was undeniably a grin on his face, his mouth continued to flounder open and closed.

Finally, he found the words.

“I… No words could possibly describe what I am feeling. Thank you,” said he in a soft voice that the flame’s cackles nearly burn it out of the air.

Hubert’s reply, however, broken the gentleness between them, ”It is unnecessary to thank me. I have these skills, why not put them to work?"

"You truly do hate to hear the words 'thank you', don't you?" said Ferdinand. Even if Hubert wasn’t already looking at the other man, he heard the smirk in his voice.

"If you know it, why say it?"

"Because this is the most like a human I've felt in years. There doesn't yet exist words to express how grateful I am."

"Then…” hesitated Hubert. Although he had gotten used to the unusual figure, it still was not the body of a man. He did not care for appearance, but he understood others did. And if others saw Ferdinand as he was, they would run, scream, and curse him without seeing Ferdinand as himself. With no words that could follow Ferdinand’s, Hubert said, “Your welcome. But do think nothing of it."

Hubert handed Ferdinand the tools he used to be placed back into the chest. Ferdinand complied, but kept on with the conversation: "Impossible! You have done me a great favor, whether or not you will recognize it! So it is only fair that I repay you."

”This is why I detest thank you's. They draw out a transaction that should have end then and there."

"Then don't think of this as a transaction. Think of this as a gift!"

"A gift, huh?"

"Yes, and in exchange I will have the perfect gift for you!"

"What a bother."

True to his own word, Ferdinand began pestering Hubert about his own preferences, hobbies, and duties all in the name of finding the perfect gift. And if Ferdinand wasn’t present, the servants took his place. Caspar and Lorenz were particularly annoying with their questions.

Hubert answered all their questions with as much honestly as he could mustered. Avoidance was only met with more questions at a louder volume and dishonestly brought more trouble than it was worth. He kept his more personal preferences to himself — like his fears — but the beings within this castle knew more about him than anyone else in his life. That was a startling realization when Bernie correctly guess at his fondness for examining how different battalions worked, functioned, and maintained order.

But even with all the information Ferdinand accrued, it seemed the lord still did not understand him. Why else did he insist they both dressed with the finest clothes in the castle they could find and dance in the grand ballroom.

Ferdinand dragged him through the preparations, and hours later, they were standing in from to the ballroom’s door.

Hubert sighed with a tug at the itchy collar, “How is that you repaying me? It seems more of a reward for you.”

“Haven’t you ever dreamed of being the only person dancing in a grand ball room?”

“While dancing does have its merits at time, this is hardy a dream come true.”

“Then a wish?”

“Hardly.”

“We’re dresses for a proper —”

“From you own will.”

Ferdinand continues as if Hubert said nothing, “Ball, so we should make the most of it!” He finished with flourishing an outstretched hand.

Pulled by something, Hubert accepted. Perhaps it was Ferdinand’s shiny eyes unhindered by his fur for once. Or the shy smile that pulled on Ferdinand’s lips as Hubert wavered. But regardless, it felt comforting to be so close to this man.

Without asking, Ferdinand took the lead and guided them to the center of the room. If any other person did this, Hubert would have quit the dance right then and there, but Ferdinand, even as ungraceful his form left at times, most certainly had the ability to lead them in a coherent dance. Never mind Hubert had never properly danced with anyone and had no comparison, but he knew enough to understand what Ferdinand intended with their position. So their first dance began.

He was unpracticed in the art of dance, but Hubert managed to keep up with Ferdinand. Not without challenges, though. Along with the increasing-complicated steps Ferdinand led them though, there was the man himself. Long used to his form, Hubert catalogued every little detail he had failed to notice until now. Ferdinand’s hands, while furry and rough, held his own hands and waist as if he was made of porcelain. His clothes, while finely made, were outstretched and patched up in an attempt to make them fit on his larger build. Because his legs were long and he towered over Hubert, he craned his neck down so they could maintain eye contract without strain on Hubert’s own neck. Whenever Hubert shifted the hand on Ferdinand’s shoulder to adjust, he noticed Ferdinand either tense or twitch.

Every detail Hubert spotted made its way to his heart. Details that used annoy him, now endeared the other man to him. Long gone was the annoyance at the absent lord; in its place was fondness for the kind man who hid himself way from prying eyes.

As reluctant as he might have came across, the dance was enjoyable. To say the least. In fact, it might have been too enjoyable. While they bowed to each other at the end, as a thank you, Hubert's felt a twinge in his chest.

But he had no time to process it as Ferdinand broke away from him and said, “Thank you for the dance, but you were right, this wasn’t really a gift for you.”

“Glad to see you to agree with me,” said he, who ignored another twinge. 

“In fact,” Ferdinand pulled Hubert towards a chest on the side of the room and opened it, “your real gift is this mirror.”

Made of silver, the mirror glowed in the candlelight. There were few engravings of creatures Hubert did not recognize, but they all faced a central figure of a man carrying a fierce lance on a wyvern. The handle was only long enough for one hand to hold, but the face was large enough to reflect both he and Ferdinand.

Seeing himself next to Ferdinand struck two things inside of him. The two of them next to each other seemed right? Like they were prefect… reflections of each other. Yet, another part of him saw only the deep divide between them. He, who looked as gaunt as the dead, and Ferdinand, who looked sun-kissed, should never been together. They were meant to repel each other.

“If you are trying to say something about my appearances —” started Hubert.

“Oh, no! Goddess, no!”Ferdinand frantically waved the hand not holding the mirror. “You are a very handsome. I —” said he before he realized what his words were. He stuttered to start a new sentence, “Well, besides that… This isn’t just any mirror. It’s magic.” He understood Hubert’s attention was no longer on his words, but the object, so he continued confidently, “It can show you anywhere or anyone. Though you don’t mention them much, I’m sure you have people from where you were from that you care about and want to check on them. Even if you can’t physically be there.”

Ferdinand was generous to have said “people”, but this was a good gift. If it did what Ferdinand claimed.

“Yes, I suppose so,” said Hubert.

“I know it’s nothing compared to your freedom of being there, but it is the best I can offer right now.”

Ferdinand held out the mirror for him, which Hubert accepted. “Very well, how does it work?”

“Just say the name of the place or person you would like to see, wipe you hand over the mirror, and you should see them as they are in the current moment.”

Ferdinand leaned over, as if he stood on the tips of his toes, to see the mirror’s face. Hubert wanted to use in this moment, but not in front of an audience. Even if said audience was Ferdinand.

“Thank you,” said Hubert as he held the mirror to his chest.

Ferdinand understood his tactic signal, stepped back, and said, “No, thank you. For accepting me, for accepting the others, and… for dancing with me.”

“It is not like any of those things were particularly challenging,” said Hubert.

“Then I hope you will dance with me again.”

“Do not get your hopes up too much,” said Hubert with a hint of fondness buried in his words.

“Of course,” said Ferdinand with tighten lips as if trying to hide a smile from pouring out.

In the privacy of his own quarters, Hubert braced himself to see his lady. Even if she could not see him, if he just knew she was safe and thriving, it would ease his “paranoid” mind, as she would have called it.

“Show me Lady Edelgard of the Empire,” said he as Hubert swiped his hand over the mirror.

For a moment, the mirror’s face was like a surface of water. Hubert’s reflection slowly rippled away to show his lady’s face. But instead of a vision of her as a confident leader in combat or combat, she was corwarding in a dungeon. Her pure brown hair that he used to labour over was now white with few brown strains left. Her tailor-made ensemble were in tatters, gloves covered in grime, and her purple ribbons torn. In the room with her was a block that barely resembled a bed or cot and a parchment-thin blanket.

All pleasant emotions froze within Hubert — replaced by a cold fury. Whoever did this to her would pay, he vowed. Forget Ferdinand, forget the punishment he was meant to carry out. His lady was in danger.

Yet for all his rage, he felt a type of self-loathing. While he was here — nearly getting swept up by a mysterious lord with an inhumane form — she was suffering. Was it because of his absent? Could he have seen the danger? Could he have prevented this? Did no one else care?

As unhelpful as those spiraling thoughts were, they pushed him into acting.

The grandfather clocks did not even strike a new hour before Hubert ran down the corridors in search of Ferdinand, found him, and demanded he be let go.

Ferdinand, clearly mystified by the shift in his demeanor, denied him at first, but upon seeing the mirror that still reflected the image of his lady in that dungeon, he sanctioned Hubert’s leave. There was the added condition of Hubert’s returned in a moon’s time, but Hubert heard nothing else but Ferdinand’s acceptance.

Finally, the grandfather clock struck midnight. As the bells rang, hooves vibrated the forest grounds and two hearts broke — one filled with fury and the other with resignation.

The last rang spilled out of the castle. So too did the life and joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's double that word count, whoo! Truly, I did not realize how long this chapter was until it was finished.
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
[9/30/19] EDIT: Removed the repeated paragraphs from chapter two. Thanks MysteriousFigure for the heads up!


	4. tale four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes far too fast.

The following months blurred together as Hubert — without pause — lied, bribed, and killed all in the name of Her Majesty. Though his appearance and health was worse than Lady Edelgard’s when he finally found her, it was all worth it. He reunited her with her sickly father, who he suspected was just as much a victim as his lady. While never the most awe-inspiring man, physically, the emperor was expected to have a long reign.

His reign ended two months after Lady Edelgard’s return.

Succumbing to the poison — Hubert only discovered at the end — the emperor relinquished the crown to Lady Edelgard with his last breath.

Now five months after his return to the greater world, he was back to his position of Lady, now Emperor, Edelgard’s shadow. When not relentlessly hunting down those who experimented on her, he assisted her by her side to ever so slowly restore the life in her eyes.

She no longer screamed for hours every night, but nightmares still haunted her. And every night he was by her side. No doubt his actions started a number of rumors, but he was far too accustomed to the whispers.

Another two months passed before he finally found the roots of what happened. While he knew forces darker than him existed, he could never imagine them so close to the throne. Hubert’s own father arranged the death of the former emperor while Emperor Edelgard’s uncle, Lord Arundel, planned her demise with his people’s experiment on Emperor Edelgard. Hubert could not tell if his father and her uncle intentionally aligned their timing, but his father sending him away matched perfectly with the pervious emperor’s beginning declinations.

And while he plots his revenge on Lord Arundel and his father, every once in a while he recalled a sunny smile on a hairy face every time Hubert entered the same room. On particular vexing days, he found himself questioning the authenticity of those smiles. Who knew if that lord was also involved in the near destruction of the empire? Was it why the lord accepted Hubert? Why he could stand Hubert’s surliness?

He never uncovered that answer, but as with many things in this convoluted mess, Hubert discovered other secrets, One, in particular, he wished he never learned.

His father taught him their family can not afford any weakness lest the empire’s enemies manipulated it to the empire’s downfall. Along with traitor, Hubert added hypocrite to his father’s list of failures. If his father was foolish enough to weigh Hubert’s safety over the former and current Emperors’ life, then it was only fair that Hubert — his father’s purported weakness — reminded his father how costly weaknesses truly were.

While he confirmed his father knew what he was doing by sending Hubert away, he still suspected that lord’s own role in all of this confusion.

But unproductive queries faded as months later he finally unrooted and punished those who committed horrors against his emperor. His own father included.

Two long years of an unseen and unheard of war was finally won with the last deaths of those who slither in the dark — so he called them to himself. The nightmare was over.

The emperor was thriving. She had other confidants than him— another young lady those who slither in the dark also experimented on and a mysterious mercenary who was his newest target of scrutiny — for issues beyond him. Her work as emperor began undoing all the work her uncle and his father did to the empire at large.

Her nightmares were now relegated to the worst days. On those days, of course, Hubert made sure she had no official appearances for the day and sent word for the young lady and mercenary. The three of them spent hours at the gardens, docks, or library, while he dealt with the tedious chores of ruling an empire. Nothing that required the emperor; merely minor disputes not truly worth her time in the first place.

His time at an enchanted castle with talking artifacts and sun-bright lord seemed like a distant dream. Without the requirement of questioning every bit of knowledge he came across, his suspicion of the castle and its inhabitants vanished. It seemed unlikely that a group of people so disconnected from the world had gained anything from the empire's downfall. No, they were likely unwitting accomplices who had no idea what their actions meant for their empire. There were small reminders of his time there — when the emperor torn her cape or when she wanted to know the best tea to serve a particularly pompous noble — but his job behind the emperor was too vital and occupied every hour of the day. While the reminders stirred a desire to see them, he did not.

At least, until Hubert developed his own nightmares. After everything he had done the previous years — all of his deceptions, lies, bribes, corpses — it is the image of the lord dying that haunted him to the point of sleepless weeks and constant coffee. Sometimes, the lord was alone in the library where they played so many chess games and his breaths were getting shorter and shorter until his bright eyes closed for good. Other times had the servants beside him all weeping. One time had his father’s magic tore through the lord’s body.

It made no sense that Hubert saw these visions. Obviously none of them were reality. The lord was just fine. Locked up in the same castle as he had been for years. For reasons unknown. But he was away from all the turmoil in the capital. He was safe.

So why did he want to set out for the abandoned castle? Was it pity for the trapped lord? Was it to repay a debt? What debt?

So distracted was he even the emperor noticed his lack of attention.

The final draw for her appeared to be when he drank the fruitful tea the young lady sent the emperor.

“I know it is not likely a simple story, but will you please tell me what has you distracted these days?” asked she after Hubert grimaced at his teacup.

“Apologies, Your Majesty,” said he like reflexes.

“No apologies necessary Hubert.” She moved her hand away from her own teacup. For a moment, it looked like she intended to hold his outreached hand for this conversation. For the two of them, however, touch was not necessary nor part of their relationship, so she folded her hands back in front of herself. She looked equal parts friend, mother, and ruler. “I would only like to know what is praying on your mind so.”

“A trifle memory.”

“Hubert,” said she as if she knew he planned to brush this topic aside.

She said no other words, but with her disapproving eyes and furrowed brow, she had no need of any more. He, likewise, gave nothing away. A battle of wills began between the two.

When their tea cooled beyond a palatable temperature, he challenged, “Do you command me, Your Majesty?”

“No, never. But we are at a time of a relevant peace and growing happiness for the people, which includes you.” Now she properly reached out for his hand. It was a slow and expected motion from her that he accepted the contact.

“A tall order,” said he with a wryly smile.

But the smile disappeared when her voice softened. They were seated in her parlor at her extra sitting table, but it felt like they were once again children avoiding adults and hiding under blankets to trade secrets. Her now-whispered voice reminded him the voices that held their deepest desires and darkest plans. “And one that I expect you to not fail. We have worked hard, and harder times are ahead of us. So I would like to know what is holding you back from enjoying the fruits of labour.” With her own wryly smile, she added, “Or at least enjoying it as much as you can.”

“Very well,” he relented. “but it is an… odd tale. To say the least.” He broke the invisible, but budding sensation that they committed a taboo by talking of this subject.

“We have all afternoon, no?” She refreshed her own teacup, while he adjusted the sugar bowl’s placement for her. “I am ready to listen.”

“As you wish.”

He began with the telling the nature of his nightmares, which led to a complete retelling of his time away from her.

Perhaps for the first time, ever, Hubert brought the truth behind the long abandoned castle to the light. He told Her Majesty of the liveliest and loveliest lord he had ever met with the most unusual servants employed. While he talked of the others, the lord was unquestionably the dominant topic; even if Hubert was completely unaware of if at the time. From how he distrusted the lord to the closest thing Hubert came to friendship to their quiet nights together to their one and only dance together.

So absorbed in his retelling, the warm crinkles next to Her Majesty’s eyes went unnoticed.

“The lord sounds kind and capable,” said she once he finished. “Why have you not visited him? Or host him in the capital?”

“There is an issue of his…” hesitated he, for he was unsure how to describe the lord’s uniqueness nor did he understand why the lord transformed. “I fear others would not take kindly to his appearance.”

“I have never known you to care about appearances or common opinions on the topic.”

“Well his appearance does not... readily favor him to the masses. Let alone a court of nobles.”

“Whatever his appearance, Hubert, I would gladly welcome anyone who took care of you and graciously let you come back.”

“You would permit his presence without knowing him?” asked he as the mystified one at the table.

“I know you, Hubert. You do not let your mind wonder about others unless they were of note, and given what you have said, he must be an acceptable man.”

It was too easy. Too simple. So Hubert complicated the issue even more. "It has been two years. Surely, he has moved on."

"From the isolation he likely experience, I doubt he has frequent chances to meet anyone," said she rapidly.

"He might be angry I left him in such a haste and with no message sent since."

"Hubert," said she almost as a sigh, "you can create a number of possibilities, but you will not know until you meet him. Which I now insist on you going."

"You do?"

"Not only are you having dreams of him... dying, you plainly hold affection for him. You should go to him."

""Plainly?'"

"You would not try to avoid this topic if it was not so close to your heart."

He allowed her words to pierce his mind. He tried seeing how she did, but everything was still so uncertain and unlikely. “Is it really that simple, Your Majesty?”

“All you must do is ask.”

“Very well..." Paused he for the chance she might demand him to stay. She merely blinked. "May I take a short, _brief_, leave to see him?”

“Of course." She placed an elbow on the table and leaned her head into the back of her knuckles.Sounding as more young and free as she ever been, she said, "And if you reconcile enough, feel free to welcome him to the courts. If he is as fine as a lord as you make him out to be, he would be a great ally to have.”

Hubert was sure his face turned the lightest shade of pink as he got up and bowed, “I will ask if it comes up."

Shortly after he left the emperor's quarters, Hubert formulated his plan to leave the capital city unnoticed, untraceable, and hastily. Despite his speed, his mind still designed how best to tell Ferdinand all he wanted. His apologies, the emperor's invitation, and... his affection.

Within a week's time, he sped through the cities, countryside, and even the magical barrier — which seemed to recognize him and allowed him access — around the castle itself.

Hubert expected to search the entire grounds for Ferdinand or even run into one of the servants first and inquire Ferdinand's location. 

Nothing of the like was necessary, however, because a trail of rose petals led him through the castle to the veranda where he first saw, but not met, Ferdinand. As he journeyed through the castle, he noticed the castle growing desolate appearance. The garden, once kept properly and refined, had overgrown ivy wrapped around the trees, dying flowers on the bushes, and the soil was cracked. The hallways that could echo a voice across the estate, only had the sound of Hubert's footsteps bouncing from the walls. The candles lit for light and scent were melted down and no fresh one in its place.

In his heart of hearts, Hubert feared his nightmares were real. Ferdinand died before Hubert saw him again. Before Hubert told him Emperor Edelgard was safe. Before he told him... asked him to come back to the capital with him... told Ferdinand... he could have a home in the capital.

The veranda had a sight worst than any of his nightmares. The once the proud noble who sat tall in a chair with an unwavering gaze was now slouched over the table with his fur filled with visible tangles. His clothes, tailored to his body, hung loose. His eyes struggled to remain open.

The other residents surrounded him. Bernie was snitching a scarf, Lorenz tried to get Ferdinand to drink a sip of tea, Caspar was crying, and Lin was soothing both Caspar and Ferdinand.

Hubert only stopped long enough to take in the sight in front of him before rushing to Ferdinand's side.

"What has happened?" asked he, but with no intended target. Ferdinand did not look well enough to answer, and the other looked too surprised to form an answer.

"Hu... Hubert?" Ferdinand's eyes, glass-like, managed to focus on Hubert.

"Yes, it is I," said he in his attempt to ease the conversation along.

His words, however, had the opposite effect. The melancholy residents now all stared at him in confusion and anger.

"What... What you doing here? How did... did... did you return?"

"How dare you show your face in front of us? After all this time?"

"Where have you been? One day you're here, the next you're gone without a word."

"You have some nerve to show yourself again."

Their voices overlap as they continue their verbal assault. Hubert understood very little of what they precisely said, but when the word curse is said a few times in their rampage, he cuts them off.

"Curse? What curse? Did it cause this?" Hubert looked over Ferdinand figure for a tale-tell sign of a curse. No sigil on his body radiated magic. 

"No you fool. You caused this because of the curse," spatted Lorenz.

"Yeah! If it wasn't for you, Ferdie wouldn't be dying for almost two years," swore Caspar.

It was almost scary seeing these two agree with each other, but he did not think much of it. Instead, he asked again, "What curse?"

"Enough..." Ferdinand voice, also a shadow of its former songbird self, interrupted. "That's enough. You know we can not talk about it..." His voiced cracked at the end.

"But, Ferdie..." Said Bernie

"What curse?" demanded Hubert. If Ferdinand was truly dying, he would be damned if he did not try everything to avoid that outcome. Curses were his speciality, so he could help Ferdinand break this curse. Easily.

"It’s nothing to worry about," said Ferdinand.

"Clearly," Hubert's eyes scanned Ferdinand sickly appearance. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes!" shouted a chorus.

"No," said Ferdinand.

"Ferdie!" whined the chorus.

"My friends... I appreciate your endless presence and support, but please, do not burden him."

Without a thought, he asked, "What if I wished to be burden?"

He was invested in Ferdinand's potential answers and examining possible leads that the others slipped away without notice.

"This..." Ferdinand took a deep breath. "The solution is too heavy of a burden... I could never ask of it. Let alone to you."

"And what does that mean?" bristled Hubert.

"Nothing... But even if this is the end..." Ferdinand had the gall to smile at him. Ferdinand, more than anyone, should be angry at Hubert, but he continued to be his foolish self and smile at Hubert. "I am glad I saw you one more time."

"Just tell me what needs to be done."

"I can not."

"So you would rather die a fool than to ask a favor?" Hubert crossed his arms in front of his chest and peered at the lord.

"It would not just be any favor..." Said Ferdinand with a hack and a cough.

"Please..." Hubert knelt to look Ferdinand, who still had his head on the table, in the eye. "Just tell me what you need... I can not, will not, let you die like this."

Either he did not know how to respond or felt awkward by Hubert's admission, Ferdinand said, "It has been a long time since we have met."

"You are not angry for leaving for so long?" asked Hubert with a thought towards what the emperor said.

"Yes, but I have accepted it and it is why I know I can never ask you."

Hubert desperately wanted to know why, but also knew it would be futile. He settled with, "I am here now."

"You are... And even if it is just a dream... Or a goddess-given vision for my last moment, I am glad you are here."

"I am here. I am with you," repeated Hubert.

"Yes..."

"This is not how I intended our reunion."

"Oh?" A small sparkle returned to Ferdinand's eyes. It is almost nonexistence and if Hubert was farther would have missed it. " And how did you think to make up for two years of silence?"

Hubert deserved that slight, and many more, so he answered earnestly, "A feast, followed by a short musical respite and dancing, by your permission, where I could offer a thousand apologizes for leaving."

"But no regrets."

"No," said Hubert. Almost nothing compared with seeing Emperor Edelgard suffering so. But this sight almost put as much fear in Hubert's heart as that vision in the mirror provided.

"I see... Your lady... She is safe?"

"Yes. Completely."

"Good."

Ferdinand's last word hung in the air. His breathing was getting heavier and Hubert was unsure if he should say more.

"Is there truly nothing I can do?" asked Hubert to break the sound of Ferdinand's labour breathing.

"No... My time was... already borrowed... I am simply... returning it to the... goddess."

"Nonsense. What goddess would cut a life so short?"

"A life that... was cursed by the... goddess herself," said he with a coarse voice.

Outrage at the supposed merciful goddess that would allow Emperor Edelgard's torture and, now, Ferdinand's curse filled Hubert more than anything he had ever felt. He hear himself say "I will not allow it!" before he thought it.

"Hubert?"

"I..." Hubert recoiled at having his emotions so bared outwardly, but now was the only time to express them. Unnatural for him, but so very necessary. "Even after dreaming of this... I can not accept you are dying... You... You who is so..." He sounded so foolish, but the sparkle in Ferdinand's eyes danced more now. He continued, "Dear to me."

"'Dear'? What of your lady?"

"Emperor Edelgard...?" At first unsure how the conversation led back to her, he quickly understood Ferdinand's misunderstanding. "She is dear to me too and I esteem her, but you are..." he reached out to cover Ferdinand bigger and furry hand, "the one I adore... Above all else..."

"Hubert?" said Ferdinand with a catch of his breath.

"Truly... This is not how I intended to tell you... I had hope to invite you back to the capital before..."

"Invite?" Ferdinand's voice no longer sounded hoarse from the coughing. "Now it is my turn to ask what it is you are talking about."

"Yes, even if you shun your appearances, Emperor Edelgard would be honored to welcome you as her guest."

"An invitation from Her Majesty herself. You must have told some tall tales," said Ferdinand self-mockingly, but Hubert spotted the fainted smile that graced his lips.

"Nothing short of the truth. You are glorious person who would do well in court..." If he intended to see through his decision, he needed to say more, even if was unbearable to be this venerable. "But for more... selfish reasons... I would enjoy... having the one I... I... love so near me..." Hubert tightened his grip on Ferdinand's hand, but turned to look away.

"'Love?'" whispered Ferdinand so quietly that he did not intend Hubert to hear.

"Please do not make me say it again."

With a light voice filled with amazement, Ferdinand said, "You love me...?"

Hubert turned back, stared at Ferdinand, and wished his feelings were properly conveyed with a single word, "Yes."

Ferdinand closed his eyes and Hubert thought it was the end. Hubert's breathing became shallower as he held both of their hands together on the table next to Ferdinand's still laid down head. His eyes searched for an signs of life. For the steady rise of body. For a twitch from Hubert's tighten grip.

The only signs of life came from the corner of the veranda. The servants whispered among themselves, but with Caspar's whispering, Hubert still heard them talk of the curse, of possible method of breaking it, of why Ferdinand's did not break.

Yet, after years spent attempting to unravel this mystery, the answer no longer; not when the answers no longer had the possibility to come from Ferdinand. He wished not to seek out the culprit. Not now.

Hubert, instead, moved next to Ferdinand and leaned over his body to hug him from behind. Their hands never disconnected, but now Hubert embraced all of Ferdinand.

For Ferdinand's ears only, even if the person never heard it, Hubert whispered, "I love you."

Since braiding Ferdinand's fur, this was the first time Hubert touched the unruly mane. He had worn gloves every time he worked on Ferdinand's hair, and never had he regretted it until now. It was dirtier than before, but still managed to be soft against Hubert's skin. He even smelled faint traces of that pine tea he so loved.

So busy was he with accounting every scent that was solely Ferdinand, the weapon polish and hay-smell, that Hubert only noticed the changed texture of the fur on Ferdinand's head once it was almost completely gone. Before his very eyes, Ferdinand's form narrowed to a muscular male body, pale pink skin took his fur's place, and the mane thinned to just the back of his head. His mind missed what this transformation meant.

Until Ferdinand's hands moved and gripped Hubert's just as fiercely. Hubert watched as Ferdinand's eyes blink open and find Hubert's face.

"I love you too."

Hubert's life was meant for the shadows. The last few years has proven that to himself and to the emperor. But that did not mean he shunned the sun. Quite the opposite. His first step toward the sun, in fact, was demanding to shed his family name. While Ferdinand opposed his decision, with the logic his family was dishonored and meant nothing to the empire at large, Hubert insisted.

"You intend for me to continue attending Emperor Edelgard, correct?" said Hubert as they laid next to each in his quarters in the capital's castle. Ferdinand had yet to acquire his own suite, but it was not truly necessary. "Additionally, outside of recognition, which I have received from the emperor already, my name has no use."

"But to throw away you legacy —"

"A legacy filled with deception, lies, and betrayal. I have no fondness of it, nor do I wish to add to its reputation. Any dubious acts will now be tied to my name alone." Hubert's strict tone gave away to a softer one, "Besides, are you not the one who wishes to restore his own family name?"

"Well, yes. The emperor even decided to acknowledge me in court soon."

"Then it would be foolish to let it vanish in the name of marriage."

Ferdinand's eyes watched Hubert's expression and searched for the truth himself. When he saw no regrets, he said, "Not an entirely foul way to disappear." It was not a complete agreement, but he understood Hubert's arguments.

"But a worthless sacrifice."

"You are certain?" asked Ferdinand one last time.

"Yes," said Hubert with a tone of finality. In a seemingly good mood, Hubert continued on with a smirk on his face, "'Hubert von Aegir' sounds so much better than 'Ferdinand von Vestra,' would you not say?"

Ferdinand felt his face flushed. He had thought about their marriage names for weeks, but aloud, and by Hubert no less, they sounded sweeter than he thought. "They sound... equally noble."

They both let the moment of quiet, the first one in weeks for them, sit between them. Moonlight shined in the room, so Hubert watched as Ferdinand reached out his hand and cradled Hubert's cheek in it.

"This is really happening, is it not?" sighed Ferdinand.

"Do you have doubts?" asked Hubert with a tone of teasing, but Ferdinand heard the worry underneath.

Quick to assuage doubt, Ferdinand frantically said, "No! None! Absolutely not! It is just... I did not... Could not think of marriage for such a long time... And now here I am with you on the eve of our wedding... It feels like a dream."

"I assure you no dream could possibly have my presence."

"Of course not. No dream could possibly capture your surliness." Ferdinand moved his head forward and up. "Even on the night before your own wedding." He kissed Hubert's perpetual furrowed brows.

"Then I guess it is not a dream." Hubert held Ferdinand's body tighter and closer.

"For which I am all the more grateful." Ferdinand peppered kisses on Hubert's face until he reached the lips. "I love you."

As sun and shadow met, Hubert murmured, "And I you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done! Parts of me wanted to do so much more, but then this would have gotten too long and too big. So I'm content how this turned out. I hope people enjoyed this take on the Beauty and the Beast fairytale. 
> 
> Now it's time to finally decide on my NaNo project!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
